Desaparecido
by Happymood
Summary: When Spain goes missing one day, Romano set his mind on finding him, discovering a lot of things along the way. Spamano. Plus other minus pairings.
1. Missing

What is love?

No matter how many people I asked, no one could really give me an answer. It was one of those questions where someone can say whatever he wants and say nothing at all. Like, what is life? Where the Universe ends?

What is a soulmate?

That's another tricky question. But not as much as: Do soulmates exists? Is there someone out there only for me? Is there someone out there that is searching me?

Or, did my soulmate die and left me alone?

/

When Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, commonly known as the nation Spain, suddenly disappeared, no one really noticed. Humans didn't because they didn't even know Spain could be more than land. The other nations were too preoccupied dealing with their own problems to see anything amiss.

France, his neighbor, didn't see anything strange going on when he looked out of the window that night. He noticed that the lights in Spain's house were on and didn't dwell on it much when he finally went to bed after an exhausting day with his boss.

Portugal didn't find anything strange when he passed before Spain's garden the previous evening and no one greeted him.

Germany tried to call him twice the following morning, but no one answered. He presumed Spain was either busy or still asleep at that hour of the day. But then Germany became too surrounded by paperwork to even pick his phone up, and decided to call Spain when he had the chance. What he wanted to tell him wasn't that important anyway. It could wait.

South Italy, or Romano, had too many things running about in his head to realize that Spain hadn't called him at all that day. He began to notice when there was no unanswered calls on his cell phone the following day, or the day after that. His first reaction was anger. Did Spain just forget about him?

Out of pride, he didn't want to be the first one to call. So he didn't.

France slowly became uneasy when one morning he realized that the lights from Spain's house were continuously on. He went back to do his business, though, and didn't think about it for the remainder of the day.

Italy had to see Spain since forever, but he didn't think to go and visit him.

England expected a call from Spain, but when it never happened, he blamed Spain's mindlessness and didn't care about it anymore.

China had something to trade with Spain, and when his goods returned back to the sender, he raised an eyebrow and tried to call. No one answered.

He thought that was strange, but only when Spain didn't answer him for four days straight, did he start to worry.

Romano asked his brother about it. Has he seen Spain at all those days? Has he heard from him? Not that he minded, just…

Portugal started to catch up on something when he too noticed the lights from Spain's window constantly turned on. He knocked on Spain's door then, waited, put an ear against the door, heard the water running somewhere, knocked again. No one answered.

Portugal wanted to shrug it off, but a sense of dread overtook him and went straight to France.

Meanwhile, Romano checked his cell phone constantly. His finger lingered on Spain's caller ID, but then he tossed the phone aside and stared at the television without seeing anything. Italy promised he would go check the next morning.

When France saw Portugal standing before his door, he smiled politely and welcomed him in. Portugal didn't, as always, but, differently from always, he grabbed France by the arm and asked him to follow him.

Romano switched the TV off, despite his brother's complaints. He stood up from the couch and then sat down again. Italy mumbled something and switched the TV on again.

France incessantly knocked on Spain's door, then shared a look with Portugal and tried to see inside the house from the window. They called Spain's name. They saw a waterfall coming out from Spain's sink in the kitchen. They saw some leftovers still on Spain's table, as if the other had left in a hurry.

France called England immediately after. England couldn't care less, but came anyway. The three of them forced the door opened and stepped inside Spain's house only to find it empty.

When Romano's cell phone rang, he immediately picked it up thinking it was Spain. Spain's name showed on the display, but it was France's voice who answered.

"Is Spain with you?"

"No. Why?" Romano retorted, slightly pissed off, and then furrowed his eyebrows. North Italy looked at him.

"We can't find him anywhere." France said, "And all his stuff is still here."

"And why did you call me?" Romano asked, trying to sound calm.

"It looks like Spain was ready to call you."

And that was how, after one week of neither hearing nor seeing him, the world realized that Spain had disappeared.


	2. The palace

Somebody had turned the lights off and had turned the faucet so that no water came out of the sink anymore.

Except that, everything was as Spain had left. England said so before he sat down on the table and started studying his nails, silently wondering if he should just leave.

Italy sat next to him, his mouth slightly open and his brows furrowed in confusion. He looked up at the British and asked:

"Did someone kidnap him?"

England snorted, and added:

"Maybe he just left and forgot to come back."

Italy was shocked at this, but when England looked at him, Italy immediately knew that England, despite all appearances, was quite worried. France and Portugal were sitting against Spain's counter, speculating on where Spain might have gone to, so Italy turned to look at Romano instead.

Romano avoided his glance. England's sarcastic comment had made him uneasy. His heart started beating frantically in his chest, but he tried to leave his face as expressionless as he could. France glanced at him disapprovingly. Romano shrugged and went to Spain's living room instead.

"Damn it." He muttered and sat heavily down on the couch.

He blamed himself.

If he had called Spain immediately when he realized that the other had not. But he had let his pride overcome him. As always.

Maybe if he had come to Spain's house that same day.

Maybe.

Romano shook his head and groaned, hiding his face between his hands. He directed his anger at Spain then, wondering what happened to that idiot. He thought whatever the other was going through, he was worth it.

Spain had wanted to call him, France told him as much. Romano's called ID was on Spain's cellphone. If someone touched the screen, Romano's phone would ring.

"What an idiot." Romano muttered to himself, and trying to think about something else, he looked around him instead. The living room was a mess as it had always been, but Romano couldn't care less about the other's lack of organization. He preferred it to be like that, actually, rather than the annoying cleanness that seemed to rule in Germany's house for example.

It hadn't always been like that.

Romano still remembered the palace Spain used to have, the one that used to be before that little house now Romano and the others were was. The palace that had been tear down piece by piece, war after war, and on which Spain had built his new life.

Romano had hated that palace with all those maids, butlers and servants helping to keep it clean. He preferred Spain's actual house, where Romano could now find him easily without wondering from door to door.

Spain had been distant back then, concentrated on his own dreams and purposes rather than on Romano's needs. Romano had been just another trophy in his collection.

Romano remembered the day Spain and Austria had decided his and North Italy's future. He remembered Spain's annoyance at getting the less appealing brother, the one that didn't follow orders and preferred sleeping to working.

"As if Spain was any different." Romano's muttered smirking sarcastically at no one in particular.

Maybe they had been too similar, but the first days together had been hellish for both of them: Spain trying to make Romano do whatever he didn't want to do, and Romano being too lazy to actually listen to him.

Spain smiled continually at him, trying to be patient when he actually wasn't, while Romano didn't give a damn and made his life even more difficult. Romano had loved doing it immensely, until the moment he actually managed to drive Spain up the wall.

It was a terrifying experience. The first time Spain hadn't stopped shouting at him at the sign of Romano's first tears. The second he just stormed off. The third he immediately shut up, but didn't dare come closer. The fourth he hugged Romano and didn't let go for a long time. The fifth, years after Spain had stopped being an Empire, Romano had started shouting back.

The fifth had hurt the worst.

Romano had learned to deal with Spain's unpredictable character with the years, but he had never learned to wash away his anger with a smile. It was Spain who actually learned to do that.

Nevertheless, Romano knew that Spain had always been happy-go-lucky like he that, but had lost control of himself at the highest of his power. He knew because he had met Spain much sooner, when he was still a little nation like Romano had been, one of the many still to be nations in his Grandfather's possession.

Granted, Romano didn't give a damn about him back then as well. Spain had been just a shadow in Romano's everyday life, and he would have never, ever thought that Spain could one day have such a big impact in Romano's life.

Romano just envied in Spain the fact that the other grew much faster than Romano did. Grandpa had liked Spain a lot, but he had loved Ancient Greece much more and Romano and Italy spent more time with later to be Greece than Spain himself.

Romano felt a sudden wave of nostalgia mixed with anger overwhelm him. The memory of his Grandpa had come in his mind too suddenly, and he still resented him from leaving him without a goodbye.

It was then that he started to panic.

The panic attack came much faster than Romano's memory of his Grandfather. He started sweating and his heart beat so fast he thought he was going to die.

North Italy, who had come to see what Romano was doing, was shocked to see Romano in such a mess. For a moment he lingered by the door, his eyes fixed on Romano's shacking form. Then he ran to him and pulled Romano's close.

"Everything is all right!" Veneziano exclaimed failing miserably at soothing Romano's pain. "We are going to find him!" he added then as an afterthought. Romano wanted to shake him off, but found himself clinging to him instead.

It didn't help much, but his heart started beating a little slower.

"Romano, I know you care about him…" Veneziano started, but Romano cut him off. Once again he tried to push Italy away, but his fingers just squeezed his brother's arms a little more.

"You know nothing." Romano spat. "You don't know how much I suffered with him. I am damned happy he is gone."

Veneziano looked at him, obviously not believing a word Romano said, but didn't comment on his brother's antics. Romano found the courage back and pushed North Italy away. He looked at Spain's coffee table instead and remained silent.

"England left." Italy said after a moment. "And Portugal was heading for home when I came to find you." Italy added, "Maybe we should go too. There is nothing here that could lead us to Spain."

Romano glanced at him with the corner of his eye, and then fixed his gaze on the coffee table once more.

"I mean, France and Portugal had searched all over the place, ve!" Italy continued. "Everything is here: his clothes, his wallet, his phone… it's like as if he disappeared from the face of Earth!"

"Exactly." Romano spat then, but then regretted his words. North Italy stared at him, and Romano felt his cheeks burn. Italy decided to stop talking.


	3. Greece

One thing I hate the most is how much that idiot of my brother and Grandpa Rome have in common. Maybe that is why they get along so well laughing, celebrating all day long and being totally stupid together. Maybe that is why they always leave me alone.

Only one person understands me.

Greece, who doesn't care about parties or conversations without a meaning. Greece, who doesn't care about anything, not since his mother died. I envy him because at least he has had a mother.

Nevertheless, it's nice to be able to relate to someone. Greece doesn't bother me at all. He is just there. I like staying by his side because I don't need to start petty conversations, unless Greece gets into one of his moods and starts speaking gibberish. Philosophy is not my thing, but his voice is a nice lullaby when someone is drowsy.

I can't stand my brother.

I can't stand my own Grandfather. Especially if he starts singing and dancing and doing all those stupid things with Italy. They always forget about me.

Greece is different.

He remembers me.

I like how he says my name.

But yesterday something happened. Someone called my name that wasn't Greece.

He said:

"You are Romano, right?"

I looked up at him. He was a nation as I am. He was slightly taller than me. His eyes were green, like Greece's are, but brighter. He smiled at me, and it made me nervous to have someone looking at me like that.

"What the fuck do you want?" I said. He said his name is Hispania. I suddenly remembered him. Greece came in that moment and sat next to me holding a cat in his arms. Hispania smiled at him too before turning his attention back to me again.

His smile is infuriating.

"Where is Rome? I need to talk to him."

I grunted. I hate it when somebody asks for my Grandfather to me. It was Greece who answered him. Hispania's eyes lingered on him for a moment, smiled stupidly again, looked at me, grinned, thanked us and left.

That's all.

/

When Romano asked Italy if they could go to Germany, Italy almost had a heart attack. He had stared at Romano for a long time wondering if the other had finally lost it, but Romano held his mouth shut.

They patiently waited for France to leave Spain's house. The blond nation looked at them, smiled and once again reassured them that Spain must be somewhere in the world and there was no reason to be afraid. Italy had nodded, but Romano just shrugged making France groan in frustration on his way out.

Romano pretended not to care.

When France left, the Italian brothers left too. Romano closed the door with a spare key he had to Spain's house.

"What is wrong?" Veneziano asked once more hoping that Romano would tell him the real reason for wanting to see Germany now that France and Portugal were out of earshot. Romano tried hard to resist answering him, but then he opened his mouth and the words flew out before he could register them in his mind:

"What if he is really gone, Veneziano? Like Granpa's _gone_?"

"We would know!" Veneziano exclaimed, shocked at the mere idea. "I mean, there would be signs and…"

"But I…I mean, _we_ never paid attention to Spain, did we?" Romano asked suddenly pissed off.

"I know that the current crisis hit Spain hard." Italy tried to reason, "But it's not as bad as to wipe him off the face of Earth!"

"He was _sick_." Romano said through gritted teeth.

"We are too, and Greece is even worse." Italy said. "But we are all still here, aren't we?"

Romano shook his head. Italy put a hand on his shoulder.

"But why do you want to see Germany?"

"I just need to ask him something…" Romano whispered, and Italy decided to let go and bring his brother to Germany without further questions.

Germany didn't expect them, and he was shocked to learn that Spain had disappeared completely. He listened to Italy's story glancing at Romano standing beside him now and then. Romano avoided his staring like the plague.

"And how do you feel, Romano?" Germany asked then. Romano just shrugged, so Germany decided to ask something else:

"Do you know when Spain disappeared?" he asked a moment later looking at Romano straight in the eyes.

"At least one week ago, France said." Italy answered in Romano's place, "But no one is so sure about it."

"I _am_ sure about it." Romano stated instead. Italy turned to look at him, but Romano didn't explain further.

"Did he look any different before he went missing?" Germany asked Romano directly once more. Romano looked down, and then sighed.

"He was sick." He said but his voice let out a trace of doubt.

Romano knew what a crisis basically felt like, but the symptoms were different for every nation. When England got sick, he couldn't move from the bed. When Spain got sick, he could still walk around, but he was much weaker.

Nevertheless, there was nothing wrong with Spain's sudden weakness in his body to explain the Spaniard's disappearance.

Romano suddenly remembered the last time he saw Spain. He had welcomed him in with open arms like always, not caring if Romano had come over uninvited. He was wearing long sleeves even if it was a hot, sunny day. Romano followed him to the kitchen and denied when Spain asked him if he wanted some tea.

Spain prepared gazpacho instead.

"Someone that doesn't feel so well…" Germany started, "…shouldn't have the strength to leave the house."

"No." Romano spat looking at Germany straight in the eyes. Italy moved his gaze from Romano to Germany then back to his brother again.

Romano suddenly wondered why Spain had prepared gazpacho when he had clearly wanted to make tea. Maybe he just changed idea.

"And everything is still in his house?" Germany asked then.

Maybe Spain hadn't wanted to show Romano that he was cold and needed to drink something warm.

"Yes." Italy answered Germany's question. The blond nation nodded in understanding. It was then that Romano decided he should just go for it.

"Prussia…" Romano started, hating how Germany's eyes fixed on him at the mention of his brother's name. He gulped and continued: "I know he really suffered from colds before… well… damn it… you know…" Romano said bushing, "Did he show any other signs or… whatever…"

"I don't know." Germany answered truthfully. "He was with Russia when that happened, and he only used to tell me that he was cold."

"Oh." Romano furrowed his eyebrows.

"But he wasn't _that_ sick as far as I know." Germany continued. It was clear that it pained him to talk about his brother, but he kept going: "He looked fine."

"Is that what Russia told you?" Italy asked taking Germany's hand. Romano watched as the fingers intertwined together. Germany shrugged.

"Russia let me see him once in a while." Germany continued looking down at Italy, "Prussia always smiled and complained about how un-awesome everything was." He smiled a little, "He was just a little paler, but he was fine."

"How can someone who was already fucking pale become paler?" Romano snorted.

"Romano!" Italy exclaimed. Romano pouted, his eyes still piercing Germany's hand in Italy's hold. Germany noticed and let go of Romano's brother.

"Anyway, in answer to your question…" Germany said, "Prussia just disappeared. A sign on white paper, and he was gone."

"Don't blame yourself." Italy said touching Germany's hand once more. Germany shook his head and looked at Romano instead:

"I can tell you that I am sure that Prussia felt he was going to disappear." Germany said, "He was fine when he was with me, but I know there was always something he desperately wanted to tell me. Once he said he loved me. Of course he laughed it off immediately after, but now I know that he just wanted to say goodbye."

Romano remained silent.

"I don't think Spain disappeared like Prussia did." Germany added then. Romano furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't think so either." Italy said staring deeply into Germany's eyes. Romano averted his glance. He knew that look; he had experienced it a lot of times.

"What the fuck…" Romano whispered.

What if Spain had known too? What if he did disappear and had wanted to tell Romano something before he left forever? What if that was why he had been ready to call Romano's cellphone?

"Fuck it." Romano suddenly spat, louder this time. "I'm going home, Veneziano." He said then glanced at Germany, nodding at him once, "You can stay if you want."

Romano walked home alone. He tried to push Spain out from his thoughts, but Spain just kept crawling in demanding not to be forgotten.

Then, suddenly, his phone rang.

Romano answered immediately, his heart beating fast and painfully in his chest. The voice that answered him wasn't the one he expected.

"Is it true? Spain disappeared?" Greece asked from the other side. Romano sighed.

"Who told you?"

"Portugal." Greece said. "He never calls… so I immediately understood it was something… serious."

Romano snorted.

"You should rest."

A moment of silence.

"Don't be a hypocrite." Greece told him. Romano pouted even if Greece couldn't see him. He suddenly remembered when he had truly seen Greece for the last time. It had been years since he had gone and visited the older nation just because he felt like to. From then on they just nodded at each other at meetings.

That last time he had been with Spain when Greece asked him to come over. Spain had stared at him, smile on his lips as always, looking happy as always, and understanding as always.

And asked:

"Are you going to Greece again?"

Romano hadn't dwelt on it much back then, but now that he thought about it, Romano was sure that Spain had sounded just a little bit irritated. Maybe he was making this memory up because he didn't remember Spain ever having issues with Greece. On the contrary, they actually got along quite well.

Maybe Romano hadn't wanted to notice Spain anger.

_"Are you going to Greece again?" _

Spain had made it sound like Romano was going to commit a crime.

Romano was now surer than ever.

It was anger!

"Greece…" he asked then, blushing a little at what he was going to say. "Did Spain look any different when he was alone with you? From normal, at least."

"No, he looked fine." Greece promptly answered. "The last time I saw him he… prepared paella. He almost… burned the house down because he forgot to turn the fire off."

"Really?" Romano furrowed his eyebrows. Greece chuckled form the other side.

"Yeah…" he sighed, "We ended up ordering pizza."

Romano snorted, but then decided to pass to the next question.

"What about when we were all the three of us together?"

"That didn't happen often…"

"I know, damn it!" Romano groaned, "But what was Spain like when you and I were in the same room?"

"You mean nowadays or since the day we met for the first time?"

"Always, Greece!" Romano exclaimed, frustrated.

"He has always been quite overprotecting if you ask me…"

Romano was shocked.

"It was like Spain was afraid I was… going to rape you or… something." Greece added as straightforwardly as ever. "Crazy, isn't it?"

Romano tried not to gulp. He didn't want Greece to hear his real emotions.

"Yes. The bastard."

/

I do not see Hispania so often, but when I do he always stares at me and Greece from afar. I bet he likes Greece, but the idiot must be really shy because he never dares making a move. That or he is afraid Grandpa is going to take it the wrong way and punish him from trying to conquer Greece.

Anyway, he is a loser.

Because he doesn't know Greece loves _me_.


	4. Remember

At first I didn't want to stay with him.

He just wanted me for my lands and history.

But now… I don't want to leave him, and I have to find a way to stop myself from needing him.

/

Romano kept wondering if Spain had been jealous of Greece for the rest of the day, but then he decided he shouldn't dwell on it so much. They have been through so many things that his past story with Greece shouldn't even matter anymore.

They had been much younger back then. Both have been two mini-nations that had found comfort in each other, until the day they had to be separated again. With him Greece had been kind and their way of thinking had been so similar that it was natural Romano would end up feeling something for him.

It didn't last long and so they didn't find the time to create something more than that simple companionship they shared. Greece had kissed him once, but that was all. Spain shouldn't feel jealous or fear that anything should bloom again between them.

It then hit Romano that Spain had been feeling that way for a long time, maybe even when they talked to each other seriously for the second time in their immortal life. That had been when Spain had literally dragged Romano to that huge palace with too many rooms for Romano's tastes.

It was difficult for Romano to imagine Spain having any feelings for him back then because in those days Spain had never shown any kind of interest in Romano apart from his lust for money and power.

At first, all Spain would do was to always command him to do something. Even when he used his kinder voice, it was just to ask Romano to obey. When Romano met Spain for the second time in his life, he felt nothing but resentment.

Romano could never have imagined that Hispania could turn in such a monster. Romano hated him for the fact that Spain had grown taller too, while Romano remained small and weak.

Spain had tried to make Romano his colony, but Romano has been too stubborn to submit to the other nation so easily. No matter how many things he had taken from Spain, in the end he had remained himself.

The one who changed the most was Spain himself, who took from Romano more than he would have ever predicted.

At that thought Romano stopped suddenly in mid track. His mind went back to those times again and wondered once again if Spain had indeed felt something for him, hiding the jealousy he felt of Greece, even when Romano was just a small colony.

How many things had Spain hidden? Romano wondered. How many things Spain hadn't wanted to tell him?

The fact that Spain had been jealous of Greece had been just the tip of the iceberg. Was Spain aware that Romano had been jealous of Spain's flings too? Did he know that Romano…

He did, Romano told himself. _But then I made him change idea_.

Everything had happened slowly. Romano didn't believe in love at first sight because he never experienced it. Spain too hadn't loved him at first, Romano could bet on it.

Spain had been just a constant figure in Romano's life, and it took him a long time to realize that Romano had started falling for him. He realized that something was wrong when he slowly found himself hoping Spain would return from his missions soon. Spain always returned tired and bloody, and Romano would feel his heart beating ragingly in his chest with something he at first thought was fear of blood.

Spain in the beginning wouldn't care covering his scars in front of Romano, but when he started ordering of his maids to get Romano out of the way when he returned the younger nation realized that Spain had changed idea. When that happened Romano would shout at him that it served him right being hurt just before the maid dragged him away. Spain would just smile infuriatingly at him.

Romano would then cry alone in his room.

Romano had always hated the fact that he couldn't keep his emotions in.

Spain would never hug him if his hands were bloody. He would do so only when he was clean and smelling of soap.

What had Spain hidden from him? Romano wondered once more. Why Spain has never told him that he cared back then? It took Romano so long to understand him, and in the end he didn't know the Spaniard at all.

When Romano had been under Spain control, he had thought that Spain had looked at him as one looks at a new decoration on the window sill. Spain had never wanted to treat him like his other colonies.

In the end, he had left him free enough.

"Maybe he actually never cared." Romano said out loud, "He wanted Feliciano at first. Maybe he just didn't want to bother himself with me more than he needed."

Suddenly the last image he had of Spain with the gazpacho in his hand flashed in his mind. The emotion on the other face had been the same as when Spain offered to cheer him up when he was smaller.

If Spain didn't care, a voice in Romano's head said. Would he have wanted to ever cheer you up?

"If that was called cheering someone up." Romano whispered with a snort remembering Spain's stupid charms that did nothing but infuriate him.

Or lie to you so you wouldn't worry? The same voice added after a moment.

The image of Spain with the gazpacho couldn't leave his mind. Romano remembered when Spain would tell him that everything was alright… see? This scar is not so bad! It makes him look cool! No, it doesn't hurt.

Romano, don't cry. I'm here.

Romano, I'm glad I have you.

_"Why aren't you talking to me, Romano?" _

Romano shook his head, he crossed his arms over his chest and without thinking turned on his heels and made his way back to Spain's house.

_"Why aren't you talking to me, Romano?" _

He remembered when Spain had asked Romano so. It was such a long time before Romano thought both of them had forgotten about it.

It was when Romano realized his heart beat in a different way when he crossed Spain in the hallway. It happened much after he realized that Spain could be terrifying when angry, but the churning in his stomach wasn't for fear. Romano had started to grow up.

"I don't want to talk to you." He answered. Spain looked down at him still taller but not so much. Romano just gulped and run away.

The memory faded from his mind and Romano finally found himself in front of Spain's abandoned house once again. He took out the spare key and looked around him in case France was spying on him from behind closed curtains. He then stepped inside the Spaniard's living room and softly closed the door behind him.

He decided he would start searching around for clues.

He checked the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room and even the bathroom, but found nothing of importance. He opened the fridge and was shocked to see it wasn't as full as he imagined it to be.

Spain loved to have everything in case Romano came over.

It was then that Romano noticed the little post-it on the fridge. It wrote: Remember to go to the supermarket. The moment he read that little post-it his eyes started discovering all the little yellow notes scattered around the place that, in his haste to find something of importance, Romano had totally discarded.

They said:

Remember to check if the door is closed.

Remember to switch the lights on.

Remember the washing machine.

Remember to call England.

Remember to check the paperwork.

Remember…

Remember…

Remember…

Romano read all the post-its and furrowed his eyebrows. Why France and Portugal, who had checked the house before him, hadn't noticed all these little yellow notes? Didn't they find strange that Spain needed to be reminded to do all this stuff? Of course they were written in Spanish, but wouldn't they understand?

Romano wondered if Spain had always been so forgetful.

He decided that Spain had always been someone that could be distracted easily. He remembered Spain lying on the grass and watching the sky and forgetting to do paperwork. He remembered that Spain never forgot to do the important things.

But maybe France and Portugal didn't know that and thought that Spain needed constant reminding for everything.

Maybe Romano was wrong and he had never noticed that Spain had always needed to write down a to-do-list.

"The idiot." He said out loud and his eyes fixed on one of the yellow post-its. _Remember to call England. _

Romano's stomach churned. England had looked so indifferent when Spain had suddenly disappeared that morning, and now Romano found out that Spain had wanted to talk to England about something.

Romano started thinking: was it possible that England knew something and pretended not to? Did Spain tell him something?

Romano groaned in frustration and decided to return home. That night he didn't sleep well at all, and the moment he woke up again he called England to tell him they needed to speak.

/

North Italy told me we need to serve under one flag.

I don't want to. I am happy this way.

But maybe if we do, I will never need to live with Spain ever again.

I don't know.


	5. Secrets

England did not expect Romano's visit, and, frankly, Romano himself didn't know why he was taking such drastic measures to get some answers. England stared at him, long and scrutinizing, sleep deprivation evident from the dark circles under his eyes. Romano had woken him up in the middle of the night, but the Italian didn't feel guilt at all.

"I hope it's important." England stated after that long moment of silence in which one was searching for the right words and the other was hoping to soon return back to sleep.

"Spain wanted to call you." Romano blabbered, his cheeks flashing red at the way England's eyes pierced him as soon as he said so. "Not… not that I care… damn it." Romano stated immediately afterwards adverting the other's eyes.

"When did you ever care?" England asked then. Romano scowled but still looked away. "You ex-colonies are all the same…" England continued, to which Romano shot him a venomous look.

"Oh, so now I should be fucking grateful?" Romano asked spitefully. England's lips become a thin line. "He conquered me, took the freedom away from me and I should be damned happy about it?"

"Well, I remember him doing everything in your place when you were living with him." England said. "He let you do as you pleased and even washed after your mess. No many would do the same."

"He kept commanding me!" Romano exclaimed in self-defense. England waved a hand at him showing him he didn't really care. Romano flushed red, but this time it was from anger and not embarrassment.

"You see how ungrateful you are?" England continued, "Now he was not your boss anymore, was he? And yet you still didn't care about him."

At this point Romano laughed.

"And you do?" he asked scornful.

"I don't." England spat a little too quickly. Romano pouted.

"But you were always quite of close, weren't you?" Romano added then staring at England straight into his face. The other's eyes widened in surprise at that.

"I used to hate him a lot, and you know that." England said, but Romano just snorted.

"I only know that Spain has always had an interest in you back in the day…" Romano said.

"Is that why you came?" England asked unexpectedly then, and Romano's heart skipped a beat. He kept him mouth close but looked defiantly at England while the other processed what Romano wanted to say in his mind. "You think Spain told me something when he called me, don't you?"

Romano looked suddenly down.

"You think Spain trusts me?" England asked.

"You fucking understand him more than I do…" Romano confessed then, his eyes getting wet at that. He scrubbed them with the back of his sleeves, afraid that England would scorn him if he started crying. "You went through so fucking much together… and you, France and Spain share so much history, while I was just a damned weak mini nation that waited for him to come home."

Romano blamed the fact it was the middle of the night for such an outburst and cursed himself for ever coming there and saying his worst fears to England of all nations. Nevertheless, if England was shocked at Romano's words, he didn't show it

"Why didn't you go to France then?" England asked.

"Because France is an idiot who can't keep his mouth close, not in this kind of situation at least. He would have spilled the beans to someone and I would have known something was going on with Spain!" Romano exclaimed, "But you… you son of a bitch always keeps by yourself… you wouldn't care to tell anybody whether Spain is damn okay or not if they don't fucking ask you."

England looked at him for a long moment, and Romano regretted ever saying anything. His heart was beating madly in his chest and he just wanted to go home and pretend nothing happened.

"Spain did indeed call me…" England suddenly said, his voice confirming all Romano's fears. "… and even if he told me he would again, he never did."

"If it was paperwork you wouldn't sound so much serious about it." Romano reasoned. England chuckled.

"That is why I like you more than your brother…" England said. "Maybe that is why Spain liked you so much in the end too."

"Spain…" Romano started, but England interrupted him.

"He was starting to forget, did you know?" England asked, "It wasn't like that fake obliviousness Spain has sometimes. He really couldn't remember things anymore."

"Why you keep referring to him in the past?" Romano suddenly asked angry. "You don't know if he is gone or not!"

"He could very well be gone, Romano!" England exclaimed, "Can't you understand what I'm trying to tell you here?"

"He always forgot things."

"Of course." England said, suddenly calm again, "But this time it was different. He called me because he was scared, he asked me if the same happened to me sometimes when my economy wasn't that good, but it never did."

"Why didn't he tell me anything?" Romano asked then looking down at his fingers.

"He didn't want you to worry." England answered. Romano snorted.

"And why did he call _you_?" Romano asked then defiant looking at England straight in the eyes. England stared at him and suddenly his face softened.

"Are you jealous?"

Romano's lips narrowed into a thin line.

"You know very well how I feel about you."

"Spain had a lot of flings and many of them were just for political reasons." England said. Romano gritted his teeth. "Our relationship has always been complicated."

Romano decided not to tell the other of all the times he had looked from afar as Spain talked with France or England or whichever powerful nation he decided to meet at the time. He didn't want to tell him how weak and pathetic he felt in comparison with the others.

He had nothing. He had been the one being conquered.

Romano didn't want to tell England how much he had thought back then that England could have been a right match for Spain, no matter how antagonistic their relationship was. Spain has been at England's level. Romano would never be.

"Why aren't you jealous of Prussia or France or…" England continued.

"Because." Romano interrupted. "You are the only one that had managed to trigger his interest in _such a way_."

"I never loved Spain." England spat.

"But at some point in time he did end up loving you." Romano spat looking away and regretting his words immediately afterwards.

England's face turned serious again.

"Romano…"

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it!" Romano exclaimed and closed his eyes.

"Romano!"

"Evidently he still feels something for you if he decided to call you of all people!" Romano shouted, "Do you know how much it hurt not to feel worthy of Spain? You were the most powerful nation back then, you two were running after the same lands, you had so many things in common… and I… I…nothing."

"Spain did love you." England suddenly said. "It's not my business, but it was no secret that Spain hadn't eyes but for you. And for your information, he never loved me or anyone else for that matter. France can confirm that. Do you know France had fallen head over heels for that idiot once? I know."

"I know too, but…" Romano said through gritted teeth remembering all the times France had tried to slip his hands in inappropriate places of Spain's body.

"Well then, Spain was not as oblivious as you think. He pretended not to notice and in the meantime he returned every day back to you."

"Why do you know so many things about Spain?" Romano asked in anger.

"Because he told me everything that day he called me." England said truthfully, "He was scared he was going to forget everything in the end and he wanted someone to tell you this when the time came."

"What time?" Romano asked, but England eluded the question.

"Spain wanted me to tell you it had hurt when you left him to be with your brother but that he understood. What he couldn't understand was how you could leave him when Spain confessed…"

"That was a long time ago." Romano abruptly interrupted him.

"Everybody thinks you are an item, and I did too until Spain confessed me you are not." England continued.

"We…" Romano looked down. England shook his head.

"I don't care." England stated, "I just want to get this out of my system so maybe you can leave and I will go back to sleep. Spain wasted my time with all these unnecessary things and now it's my turn to waste yours with stupid story of how and when he fell in love with you-!"

"And that was?" Romano asked not registering his own words.

"Since forever he said." England said clearly annoyed by the whole matter.

"Bullshit."

"Yeah, he was always pathetically romantic." England stated bored, "But he wanted you to know that it hurt when he realized you loved him back and-!"

"I don't love him." Romano interrupted him and shot up from the chair he was sitting. "Enough with this bullshit. So Spain was scared he was forgetting everything and wanted someone to record his memories. I am just so fucking glad he chose you for that because I would have killed him myself if he started boring me with all his unnecessary blabbering. So. Goodbye."

England watched him storm off to the front door. When Romano closed it loudly behind him, England loudly sighed. "Thanks God this is over…" he whispered.

His eyes went back to the spot Romano had previously occupied and sighed again: "Spain… where the hell are you?"

In the meantime, Romano was fuming.

He was angry at Spain for mentioning that period of their life to England. He thought it was going to be their little secret and that neither of them was going to remember it ever again.

It had been long after Romano left Spain's household. It started when Romano finally decided to go and visit Spain to see how the other was doing. The palace was gone and the garden was full of tomatoes Spain grew himself.

When Spain had seen him, he had stopped whatever he was doing and ran to hug him. Romano had liked the warmth from the other's body. Romano had liked the fact that his head could now rest comfortably in the crook of the other's shoulder.

Spain had invited him in and for that time onwards Romano had kept visiting.

Spain was handsomer than Romano remembered. Romano didn't know Spain was the happiest when Romano was near him.

And then Spain started sending him letters, and Romano slowly started answering to all of them.

Words that slowly became love confessions hidden between the lines.

Romano trying to hide his smile widening when Spain came visiting him.

The day Spain decided to risk it and intertwined their fingers together and Romano loving the way their hands seemed to match.

They had talked about the past while taking walks.

Romano didn't know Spain's heart beat fast in his heart when he would step in Romano's territory after days spent in the train. He didn't know how Spain couldn't control himself and wanted to hold Romano close and never let go.

Romano shouting at him, teasing him, not realizing that he was practically flirting back. Spain completely unaware of what they were doing until the day he realized he couldn't take it anymore and wanted so badly to taste Romano's lips.

Romano's hands tightened.

That had been the worst day of all.

Spain had kissed him and Romano had liked it. He actually had wanted to do it again until they were both breathless.

Romano had let Spain's lips upon his more than once.

But then.

Then one day he decided he should just walk away before it was too late.

Romano shook the memory out of his mind and returned home.


	6. Time

"At least tell me how you really feel…" Spain said.

Romano looked at him. He could feel the muscles in his face hurt from how much he was trying to look tough. Spain stared back at him, and Romano swore he had never seen the other as serious as this.

"I may not be able to see you again." Spain added. Romano looked down trying to hide himself gulping.

"Franco…" Spain continued, and Romano shot him a look.

"I don't care." Romano spat. "If I say I love you it would make you feel nice with yourself, but it would be a fucking lie."

Spain slightly nodded. He looked away and then smiled.

"Take care of yourself, Romano."

Romano gulped.

"You too." He said then, and Spain walked away to be confined into his own house for neither of them knew how long.

/

It all started when Romano decided to visit Spain one day. They looked at each other from afar first, taking in all the differences and noting what remained the same, and then Spain stood up and hugged him close.

It was a memory that warmed Romano in cold nights. The way Spain's eyes had lighted up when he saw him made Romano's heart run wild in his chest. He would never admit that he had missed the bastard.

Romano trying to remind himself that he should hate Spain, but he just couldn't. Spain had managed to carve a little place in his heart and nothing could erase it, no matter how much Romano tried.

Romano couldn't understand how human couples could move in their relationships quickly. It could take a human only a couple of days to decide to kiss the other, spend the night with the other or marry them. Maybe it was because they didn't have the eternity to absorb each other's essence.

Romano was happy that he was a nation. If they had been human, nothing between them could have bloomed.

It was nice lying next to Spain in the grass, ignoring passersby who looked at them in dismay. Romano would die before admitting he liked the way Spain looked at him and held his hand.

"So what do you want to eat today?" Spain asked playing with Romano's fingers and making Romano blush with his astounding smile. Romano had tried to slap the other's hands but in vain. In the end Spain would always manage to intertwine their fingers together.

Romano hated it that he was so happy.

"Don't stand so close to me." Romano spat. "We are two men."

"And so?"

"It's not right." Romano said but still he would want to feel Spain's presence nearby him. The Vatican told him that he had noticed and that he didn't approve, Romano answered that he didn't approve either.

Still something in the back of his head told him that he would be ready to sin if he could see Spain smiling at him _in that way_ every day. He ignored that voice most of the time. Spain was as religious as he was, but he looked like he didn't care.

At first Romano seriously wondered if that was why he felt so scared when he should just let himself go. When Spain kissed him one day, Romano seriously thought that he was going to hell.

Spain had been talking about something Romano wasn't really paying attention too. All he heard was blabbering and the only thing that kept him conscious of what was going on was the fact he liked the sound of Spain's voice.

Romano would never say it out loud or the other would never shut up.

And then, suddenly, Spain had stopped talking. Romano had looked at him with furrowed eyebrows wondering if something happened, and Spain unexpectedly leaned down and locked their lips together.

"I couldn't take it anymore!" Spain exclaimed afterwards while Romano spattered something about how his lips were for beautiful women only and not for handsome bastards-! No, he didn't mean handsome! He meant ugly! Damn it, bastard, stop laughing!

And Spain had then kissed him again, and Romano had liked that bond between them. The way his lips opened against the other, the other's scent invading his nostrils and Spain's hands in his hair.

Romano was scared of how much he wanted it. He thought it was because he had sinned, and he had dragged them both down in hell. He told the other so when the time came, and he kept that lie up for years afterwards. He was shocked when Spain declared one day, one hundred ten years after their first kiss, he was allowing gay marriages.

Romano knew that Spain was trying to tell him he didn't care, and that he was willing to start over with him now that the times had changed.

Romano became even more afraid to tell him the truth.

Because the truth wasn't that he was scared of going to hell for loving another male. He had been over that over ago, when Spain still hadn't declared himself to him. He had tried to pretend that was it for years, though, agreeing with the Vatican while he couldn't stop himself from glancing at Spain's way.

The truth was that Romano was scared of their immortality. He had seen how relationships developed between other countries: it was all about politics or economics. Real love didn't last. Soon someone should need somebody else and they would forget their soulmates forever.

Spain would never need anything from Romano. He gained what he had to gain when he had been an empire. England could take his place, or France or Germany or that stupid of his brother North Italy, and when that would happen, Spain would realize how stupid it was to have a fling with Romano.

Or worse.

Spain would realize Romano just wasn't worth it way before anything political could happen. What did Romano have to offer? Looks? There were nations far more handsome that he was. Not to mention Spain had always found North Italy much cuter anyway.

Moreover, they didn't have many things in common. Romano would never understand Spain and Spain too would never understand Romano's character completely.

Romano knew he had a lot of flaws and soon Spain wouldn't bear him anymore. Romano knew that Spain's patience wasn't infinite.

So that was why when Spain started looking at him like there was no one else in the world, and Romano started feeling happy about it that he decided he should run away.

If they had been human, love between them would have actually made sense. As nations, Romano would only end up hurting himself and feel the pain forever. He was sure.

Spain was just too perfect for him. Romano wasn't at his same level. The other nations recognized North Italy more than they did him. They even called him Italy as if Romano wasn't part of it!

Romano should just end it before they fell into it too deeply. When Spain finally confessed after the first war feeling another one was around the corner, Romano had snapped.

It had been the fifth time Spain had raised his voice at him in all his lifetime.

It didn't start with an "I love you", but at some point in time Spain had shout that at him in frustration, running a hand through his hair and pacing back and forth.

"Why you do this to me, Romano?" Spain asked angrily. "Don't you see how much I love you? Don't you see you are killing me?"

"And then what?" Romano had snapped back at him taken aback by Spain's confession. "What should we do? We are nations, remember? We are not allowed to love if it interferes with our fucking boss' politics! Remember when you were married with Austria? Damn it! You didn't love him and yet you had to do it!"

"Fuck politics…" Spain groaned out.

"It's what we fucking do!" Romano had shouted back, "What if back then we were in a relationship? What would have happened to me if I had to see you with Austria for centuries? This is just an example of-!"

"Times have changed, Romano! We-!"

"They have not changed!" Romano shouted, "One day you may found yourself against me! I don't want to have any fucking emotions for you when that happens! Damn it!"

Spain could find nothing to counterattack, so he exclaimed:

"You know I wouldn't mean it!"

Romano laughed.

"No, the way you think is the way your people think. If your people decide to hate me, you will too!" Romano exclaimed, "Face it, it never going to work out."

"Damn you, Romano! I loved you for centuries and nothing changed!" Spain spat, "If you hate me so much why you let me fell in love with you?"

"You did that by yourself!" Romano shouted. "I don't love you! I can't love you! In every sense! Damn it, Spain! Can't you see? Even if we were humans this can't work! What would we do? Live together? Two men can't do so without attracting attention! We are damned!"

"Veneziano is living with Germany right now." Spain said trying to sound calm but failing miserably. Romano snorted.

"Germany is using him. There is no love there. As I fucking said… politics."

"Romano." Spain said through gritted teeth. "You are killing me."

"You dug your own grave." Romano spat. "You were the one to kiss me. You were the one who wanted me near. You did this all by yourself. I only thought what was in my best interests."

"Of course." Spain said but the sarcastic tone in his voice stabbed Romano painfully in the heart.

/

Sometime later Spain's civil war started, and Romano met him once more only for a brief moment when the war was over. Spain was worn out, but when they saw each other he managed to smile.

"I fear we will not see each other for a while, Romano." He had said. "At least tell me how you feel…"

Romano tried hard not to burst into tears. He was trying to be strong for the both of them, but Spain just kept bringing that up. When Spain left, Romano just wanted to run, hug him close and tell him that he did indeed love him.

"I'm telling I love you because I don't know when I will see you again." Romano wanted to say but the words died in his throat.

He saw Spain forty years later, but both of them pretended nothing had been dangerously close to bloom between them and soon everything returned back to normal.

He acted like Spain had got over him when it was obvious Spain still loved him.


	7. Okay?

Romano was starting to think that Spain was dead. Apart from that stupid notes scattered around Spain's house, England's confession that Spain had been starting to forget and Germany's declaration that Prussia was perfectly aware of what was going to happen to him, Romano had nothing.

Nothing that would lead him to Spain.

Romano was now sure of one thing. When Romano had met Spain that day, and Spain had offered him tea but made gazpacho instead, Spain had lied to Romano. Romano now knew that in offering tea, Spain had been thinking of calling England, and by making gazpacho instead, he had just forgot about everything altogether.

Spain had lied to Romano.

He had pretended to be alright, but the truth was he had been scared shitless of what was happening to him. Romano should be angry at him, for considering Romano so weak that he wouldn't manage to deal with the news.

Romano was furious at him for thinking that Romano wouldn't find a way to cure him, or to at least stand by Spain until the other would forget how to talk.

Romano would have done that. No matter how much he would have complained about it, Romano would have loved to spend every hour, every minute of his damned immortal life with Spain if the other's destiny would have been to disappear when Romano last expected it.

Romano was shocked at how much he regretted not giving Spain a chance. Now that Spain was probably gone forever, Romano realized that he had taken him for granted.

Romano loved him.

He truly, really loved him. From the first moment they saw each other to when Spain conquered him to when Spain confessed his love. He had fall in love with him long before Romano had gained his independence from him, long before they had started holding hands and Spain looked at him with eyes full of devotion.

But Romano was a nation and he had to think like one. He had been scared. Spain could not always be his friend, maybe they would need to point a gun at each other, maybe their people would decide they just didn't care about each other anymore and they would never have time to meet again. The hurt would have been too much to bear.

Romano could not love Spain, and Spain didn't love Romano.

It had taken so much to realize that Romano didn't want him to. It was Lovino that loved and was loved by Antonio. Their human parts had fallen in love with each other. The only difference from other human beings stood in that they could live forever, as long as their people existed. Nevertheless, the problem was that their human and nation parts were two sides of one coin. Romano had thought about it and had let the opportunity go.

Now he wanted to go back in time, and see what would have happened if they had let their human side take over. Spain had let his emotions free without another thought.

Romano loved him for that.

Suddenly Romano realized that probably Spain had wanted to call Romano the day he disappeared, probably to confess everything, the amnesia, his love, maybe talk about their days together.

But Spain had forgotten.

Spain had forgotten to press the call button, and had disappeared.

Romano played with that thought for a long moment, and then he tried to imagine Spain's last day in his mind. Spain stepped in the kitchen and forgot the lights on, he maybe wanted to wash the dishes and after doing that he forgot to turned the tap off. Maybe he suddenly remembered by reading one of his notes that he wanted to call Romano.

Or maybe, and Romano felt his heart stop, Spain realized just in that moment that his time had come, had tried to call Romano but had disappeared before he could make it.

"Bastard, where are you?" Romano asked out loud to push that dangerous thought away from his devastated mind.

/

"I love you." Spain said. Romano stared at him for a long moment and suddenly started shaking.

"What are you-! Bastard, I-! You know that-! Damn it. Stop kidding."

Spain smiled softly at him, and Romano became ten shades of red.

"I need to think." Romano stated then to which Spain answered:

"I do too. When you want me, you know where to find me."

"O-of course. Not that I want you! But-! Oh, fuck it!" Romano exclaimed and walked away.

/

Romano suddenly woke up. He was drenched in sweat as if he had seen a nightmare, but it had been just a memory from his past. It was when Spain had told him he loved him for the first time, and Romano's doubts slowly arose. Spain was finished thinking it over much sooner than Romano did, and when Spain tried to discuss their feelings again, Romano had snapped, leading to their most heated argument in their history together.

But what had woken him up wasn't the memory of the hurt and pain that took over after that argument. It was hope.

Romano had forgotten that Spain used to go somewhere special when he needed to think over some things. The hope that maybe he was there had slowly infiltrated his soul in the form of a dream.

Of course, immediately after he realized that, Romano thought it was pointless hoping, and he even made an attempt to fall asleep again. Nevertheless, his heart kept beating fast, he kept hearing Spain's words in his head, and when Romano realized there was no way he could get some more sleep, he stood up and got dressed.

He left home immediately, because the journey that waited for him was a long one.

When Spain felt doubts or something upset him, he would go to the only place he had felt powerful long before. South America was his favorite place to think, and Romano had known since forever. He should have thought about it sooner.

Maybe, Romano kept saying to himself, Spain had unconsciously made his way there and was waiting for his memories to come back. Maybe, Romano hoped, Spain had just lost his way and couldn't come back because he didn't know which way he came from.

/

The way Spain was looking at him made Romano crazy, in the good sense of the word. The hand holding his was warm, and Romano felt safe. Romano realized that he knew everything about the other man, and he suddenly felt proud of himself.

Not even England or France, who had a similar past to Spain's, knew him so well. Romano wanted to smile, but tried to look serious. That was no time to act like a silly schoolgirl in love. First of all, he was a man, and second of all, he needed to show Spain that he had grown up, that he was now South Italy, part of a unified nation, and not that crybaby of a mini nation that kept breaking vases in Spain's palace.

Unbeknown to him, Spain was thinking that Romano acting all tough was really cute. He was just glad the other was back to him.

/

Romano searched Spain everywhere. He visited nations he had ages to see: Brazil, even if he was more related to Spain's brother than Spain himself, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Paraguay….

No one could tell him anything, so Romano kept searching.

/

Romano hated that palace. It was too big. At least there was Spain that always showed him the way around.

Spain's smile was beautiful but scary sometimes. Romano felt a little masochistic when he realized that he couldn't live without the other's smile anymore.

He thought he was really an idiot sometimes.

/

When Romano arrived in Colombia, he had almost lost all hope. That was the last trail he had, and if Spain wasn't in South America then he was not part of that world anymore. Romano was ready to turn on his heels and go home, but the thought that he could be right and Spain was now with Prussia and Grandpa Rome, gave him the courage to search a little bit more.

When he knocked on Colombia's door, the other was shocked to see him there. The South American nation had totally forgotten Romano's face, and had been afraid for a moment that he was some kind of a criminal.

When misunderstandings were solved, Romano asked her if she had seen Spain. Colombia had looked at him for a long excruciating moment, before she said:

"I think I saw him, or at least someone that looks like him, sitting every evening at the lake Guatavita. Every time I call his name, though, he doesn't turn around, so I could be wrong."

Romano would have started crying then and there.

/

Romano looked at Hispania from afar. The other waved at him as he made his way to Rome's habitation, and Romano felt his cheeks burn.

It was stupid from his part, he knew, but the way Hispania looked at him made him uneasy. The fact that the other nation was kind of handsome-!

No, he didn't just think that.

/

Lake Guatavita wasn't a big lake, and it didn't take a lot for Romano to search for Spain around it. He needed just a glimpse to realize that Spain wasn't there. When that unreasonable sense of hope started to slowly fade, Romano decided that he should just turn around and return back to Europe.

He made his way to the village, where Colombia was waiting for him to accompany him to the nearest airport. Romano felt his legs heavy, and blamed everything on the dazzling sun. He had never thought he would have longed for rain in that moment. He wanted everything to be gloomy and sad as he himself felt.

It was then that Colombia called his name. He looked up and furrowed his eyebrows as she waved cheerfully at him, motioning to follow her. Romano rolled his eyes up to the sky, hating the fact that most of South America had inherited Spain's silly cheerfulness at the most inappropriate times, and slowly made his way to her.

Colombia shouted something at him that Romano didn't catch, but when he followed the other's extended index finger with his eyes, he realized what she wanted him to see and his heart stopped.

Spain was sitting on a chair, apparently chatting cheerfully with an old man living there. Romano was shocked at how well the other looked as if nothing was going on and he hadn't disappeared suddenly from the face of Earth.

He made a bee line to where the other was, and when Spain looked up at him with a confused expression on his face, Romano slapped him, hard. The old man suddenly shoot up, thinking Romano was a criminal and ready to call someone for help, but stopped in his tracks when the Italian suddenly collapsed and hugged Spain's legs close.

"You bastard! You idiot! You son of a-!" Romano shouted over and over, feeling a shiver run down his spine when Spain caressed the back of his head.

"Who are you?"

Romano wanted to die in that moment, as he suddenly looked up at Spain and noticed how surprised and speechless the other was. Spain tilted his head and suddenly caressed his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" Spain asked furrowing his eyebrows. Romano gulped when the other's green eyes fixed on him.

"I thought you were fucking dead." Romano stated, pretending he couldn't see the confusion in Spain's face.

"I am not dying." Spain said then with a smile. "Do you want to sit down with me?"

Romano didn't know what to say. He didn't want to move because he was afraid that if he let go of Spain's legs, the other would just disappear. Soon enough, though, he made up his mind and sat down on the chair the old man, albeit shocked, had offered him. Spain smiled at them both, and then waved at Colombia who stared at them from a distance.

"Spain, what are you doing here?" Romano asked then hoping the other wasn't going to ask him why he called him so. Spain stared at him for a long moment, and then smiled.

"I needed to think." He said, "I remember something was hurting me a lot, but here I don't feel that pain anymore. Well, now I do. You slapped me hard."

Romano didn't know if Spain was talking about the recession or something else, but in that moment he couldn't care less. It looked like Spain was perfectly aware of who he was, but that some of his memories had just decided to hide away. That in itself was a good sign. There was still hope.

"Sorry…" Romano whispered, to which Spain smiled.

"They say here was the mythical 'City of Gold'." Spain continued then as if he hadn't heard him, "Did you know that? Who are you, by the way?"

Romano gulped and tightened his hands into fits. He wanted to punch the other and drag him home, but he felt he was going to make matters worse for both of them if he did anything drastic. For once he should be the patient one between the two of them.

"I am Romano." He said then, trying to keep calm. There was a note of recognition in Spain's eyes that gave Romano hope, but it lasted a moment, disappearing as soon as it had appeared.

"Aah." Spain said. As if on cue, Colombia came closer and put a hand on Romano's shoulder.

"Maybe you should go back to Spain's house." Colombia said to Romano, "And this time, make sure he doesn't lose his way again."

"Of course not." Romano spat, a little bit annoyed at the unnecessary suggestion. He looked at Spain again and didn't let his eyes off him.

"Why did you come all the way here?" Spain asked then.

Romano gulped once more.

"Because…" he started, blushing at the way everyone looked at him, "Because I missed you, okay?" He exclaimed a little bit more aggressively than he should have done. Spain didn't look as if he minded the outburst, though. "Because I was worried about you, okay? Because you are the only one I have in this world, okay? Just because."

Silence felt between them, and Romano looked away, hiding the embarrassment that was on his face.

"I am sorry for making you suffer." Spain said after a long moment. "Should we go back home? Wherever this is?"

Romano closed his eyes and tried hard not to cry.

"Yes." He said.

/

What is love?

Sometimes is something we just take for granted. Sometimes it just stands before us, but we ignore it because we have imagined it differently, or discard it completely because we want something else that maybe we don't even need.

My soulmate was right in front of me.

He was gone, but now I feel glad. Not many people have second chances in life.

I can turn back time, and do everything all over, so we can discover what love is together.


	8. Epilogue

For once in his life Romano felt proud of himself. At first he didn't think he had done anything special by finding Spain, but when he saw the way France looked at him when the two of them returned home, he realized that he had done something no one had thought he was capable of.

France had seen them from one of his house's windows and as soon as Spain noticed him and waved amicably at him, he had practically run to where Romano and Spain were standing to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Romano had truthfully felt pissed off at that, but when he saw the guilt in France's eyes, he actually couldn't refrain from smiling.

At first, Spain didn't talk to France. In fact, he completely ignored him and just took Romano's hand asking him where home was, impatient to be left alone again. That strange question triggered France's curiosity and he raised an eyebrow at Romano.

"He has amnesia." Romano explained hoping that France would just leave. "Thank God that he is not fucking dead." Romano had spat at him as an afterthought. To say France was shocked would be an understatement, and he started making questions at them both as if they were two patients in a clinic and he was the kind doctor seeing them.

Romano couldn't care less of what France was asking or if his own answers made sense or not. He was busy feeling overwhelmed at the way Spain still held his hand, as if he was afraid to let him go.

As soon as they stepped inside, the two of them sat down on the couch with France in tow, who had still a lot of questions to make. Romano patiently waited, and when he heard France sigh in relief, he realized the torture was over.

"I guess, he had a lot of worries…" France said smiling at Spain, who was staring curiously up at him from his place on the couch. "… and his mind couldn't take it anymore. The recession hit him hard, as you already know, and there is no other logical explanation for his strange amnesia." France added, turning his attention to Romano. The Italian shrugged and looked at Spain in the eyes. The older nation smiled at him so softly it made Romano's heart ache.

"Everything should come back sooner or later." France continued then, his eyes darting from Spain to Romano and then back to Spain again. "Did something happen?"

Romano decided he wasn't in the mood to answer to that question. First, it would take too long, and secondly, it wasn't France's business to know. Spain, on the other hand, looked clueless as ever and just smiled at the blond nation as if he had seen him for the first time.

"You are France, right?" he said, "It took me a while to remember, sorry."

Both France and Romano were taken aback by this, but it was France who regained composure much faster. He smiled at Spain widely and put a hand on the other's shoulder.

"Yes, it's me." He said and then sighed. Romano glared at him, but no matter how much Romano tried to silently tell him to leave, the other wouldn't budge from his place. France felt too guilty to. He was Spain's friend, but it had been Romano who hadn't given up and had found him first, and the thought made France feel ashamed of himself. The guilt had vanished a little when Spain suddenly remembered him.

"How did you find him?" France asked then.

"He practically told me." Romano spat. France raised an eyebrow, but then Romano ignored his confused look and looked at Spain again.

"Did you two talk before he disappeared?" France asked again.

"France…" Romano started, "Spain had loved me for a long time." He said as if that explained everything. Romano immediately regretted telling France something so personal and his cheeks turned red at the confession. He blamed it on the fact he was too tired to think anymore.

"Okay. I understand." France said then after a moment of silence and smiled: "I have some calls to make. The other nations deserve to know he is fine."

Romano would have counterattacked and told him that they deserved nothing, but kept his mouth shut. He remained silent until France was gone and out of the way.

"What a pain in the ass." Romano said as soon as he heard the door close.

"He was just worried." Spain said, "How long was I away?"

"Too long." Romano spat. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and his heart skipped a beat when Spain started rubbing his thumb on Romano's palm.

"I don't remember leaving." Spain said.

"It doesn't matter." Romano said closing his eyes and basked in the other's warmth.

"You know, I started remembering something about you, though."

Romano kept his eyes hermetically closed. It took a while before Spain started talking again, but when he did, Romano tried hard not to cry.

"I have memories of you and me laying down in the grass somewhere…" Spain said. Romano felt the other move closer to him. "… and I remember you head-butting me, cursing at me, and… well, slapping me, but that's a more recent memory."

At that, Romano's whole body tensed from anger, but he took a deep breath and calmed down. Spain didn't notice and continued:

"I…" there was a moment of hesitation, "I think you and I fought at some point."

"You don't have to remember that." Romano interrupted him. Spain just shrugged.

"I was angry at you." Spain said. Romano bit his lip and finally dared to look at him. Spain's face was a mixture of confusion and wonder, and it made Romano ask himself if it would have been better if Spain never remembered at all.

"Why?" Spain finally asked, and Romano shook his head.

"Don't fucking ask me that."

"You don't want to remember?" Spain asked then.

"No, and neither should you." Romano spat. "Remember everything else but that."

Spain smiled then and laid his head on Romano's one.

"Will you stay with me until then?"

Romano gulped and felt his face redden.

"Yes." He said after a moment in which he searched for the courage to speak. "A-and… and after that as well."

Romano decided he would stay until all Spain's memories were back, and when the other will remember all of their past together, Romano will give him a choice. Either to be angry at him for deceiving him and hurting him for so many years, or to accept his confession.

When Spain will remember, Romano will tell him he loved him and that he regretted everything. It would take him a lot of courage to say it, a lot of self-control not to take everything back and mess it up as always. But then maybe they could finally see what it was like to be together.

Maybe then Romano would experience waking up with Spain's arms around his waist. Romano would hate the fact that he really needed to go to the bathroom then.

Or maybe Romano would listen to the songs Spain would write for him and that he would play on his guitar. Romano would feel the need to complain, just because, but, in reality, he would be on cloud nine from happiness.

Maybe Romano would hear Spain telling him he loved him over and over again. They would fight for petty stuff, they would find an agreement to everything, and they would understand each other completely.

All things Romano would have never experienced if Spain had indeed disappeared forever from his life.

He didn't want to think about that.

"Spain? Are you hungry?" Romano asked. Spain hummed in response.

Romano wanted to start everything anew right in that moment, but a confession to Spain then would have been pointless. Without memories, Spain would never understand how much Romano meant it. So for once in his life, he needed to be patient.

He hoped it would be worth it.

"Oh, don't tell me!" Spain suddenly exclaimed standing up, "The kitchen is that way, right? I think I have some paella in the fridge!" Spain added literally running to where the kitchen really was. Romano blinked at the suddenness of it all, but when he regained composure he immediately ran after him.

"No way in hell! Whatever you had in the fridge is rotten now! Don't you even try-!"

Then again.

If things started this way, then it would be surely worth it.

_The end_


End file.
